


Scrumptious

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Food Kink, Ineffable Kinktober 2020, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: Crowley loves the sounds when Aziraphale is enjoying a meal.on this occasion, he acts upon it.Ineffable Kinktober 2020.Day 2. Prompt. Distracted sex.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020, my Ineffable Kinktober





	Scrumptious

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as the dessert was brought to the table. Crowley had a coffee, on which he warmed his hands. Aziraphale sliced down slowly through the crisp snap of the bitter dark chocolate coating on the delectable morsel with his fork.    
  
At the sharp sound, Aziraphale’s lips parted. Just a glimpse of his small, neat, white teeth. With the fork, he deftly scooped a little of the tangy raspberry parfait inside and brought it to his pink, cherubic lips. Grinning wickedly, he flicked the tip of his pink little tongue out for the lightest taste. It was sharp and sweet and delightful. Holding eye contact through the dark glasses Crowley wore, with an artistic flourish he parted his lips over the forkful, sucking the silver tines clean as he drew the silverware back out. 

Crowley swallowed hard. The angular Adams apple bobbing delightfully. The angel took a sharp intake of breath through his nose. And then..... then his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned, low, needy, hungry.    
  
Crowley felt his disobedient cock flex in answer to that moan. His grip on the edge of the table tightened. Aziraphale met his gaze again, as the next portion passed that perfect, cherubic pout. Again, the little sounds of pleasure. A smirk twitching the corner of his lips. He knew what this did to the Demon. He raised an eyebrow when Crowley's other hand crept below the table to palm at his erection through his now painfully tight jeans. Crowley glanced around the busy dining room. Moments later, a waiter who really wasn’t as clumsy as all that, knocked into a table, dropping his tray of drinks with a loud crash. In that instant, Crowley slipped under the table, unnoticed by all but one diner.    
  
That one diner almost immediately felt long fingered hands sliding up the inside of his thighs. Reaching greedily to unfasten his trousers. Aziraphale pulled his chair in closer to the table. That mouth was on him now, teasing him to full mast. And now it was the angel grabbing at the tables edge, with a low hiss of need. The lips pulled away, briefly.    
  
“Angel, don’t stop eating. I want to know how much you enjoy the pudding.” Then the Demon closed over his cock, sucking hungrily. Trembling, the Angel gathered another forkful of his dessert, brought it to his lips, just as he opened his mouth to take it in, Crowley's agile tongue lapped a wet circle behind the head of his cock, dancing lightly over his frenulum, then up to the slit of his opening. Aziraphale’s next moan was heavy with lust.    
  
Crowley texted frantically on his phone while taking the thick shaft deeper, loving the drag of the tip over the back of his throat.    
  
Not long after, a waiter brought a bottle of fine champagne to the table, opening it and pouring Aziraphale a glass, as he clenched his jaw and smiled politely. Damn, this was erotic. The Angel struggled so hard to maintain his composure. But the champagne was one of the most delicious he had ever tasted. It was rich, smooth, biscuity and creamy. The bubbles were just the most perfect in their vibrancy. As he let it slide over his palate, he groaned in delight. The perfect sweet and sharp dessert. The incredible champagne, his beloved demon’s mouth on him beneath the table. It was overwhelming. Crowley's hands caressed his balls lightly and most expertly, and tugged on them just so as he started to come. Waves of satisfaction rolling through him.    
  
Aziraphale dropped his fork.    
  
As he bent to retrieve it, he pressed those sweet tasting lips to the mouth that tasted of himself, his own musk and resin and floral taste of his spend.    
  
Once again there was a loud crash that distracted the clientele to look towards a far corner of the dining room. And once again, Crowley was in his seat, a smug and satisfied look on his face. 


End file.
